Fool's Gold
by magnanimous
Summary: Gaius and Maribelle met once before. They share a past that the Shepherds are unaware of and the tension is slowly building. Stemming from worries that their conflict will hinder the group, Gaius decides to confront the noblewoman in an effort to explain his side of the story. Will they be able to see past each other's differences? (story will eventually escalate to M rating)
1. Prologue

The very first night he joined the Shepherds Gaius lay awake, listening to the rhythm of rain spattering against the shutters in the men's dormitory. During the skirmish at Ylisse Castle he could be sure he saw _her_. And it was undeniably confirmed earlier that evening when Chrom's little sister shouted "Maribelle!" over the clamor in the mess hall. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up as he stole a covert glance at the noblewoman; she blotted her mouth daintily with a napkin, aiming a playful reproach at the young princess. Perhaps it should not have surprised Gaius to see her amidst the army of her halidom, but nevertheless he found himself stymied by the happenstance. He had only glimpsed her once before – at the trial of her father, the Duke of Themis – and could never have imagined her becoming a soldier, let alone seeing her again in the first place.

Maribelle's eyes flicked over the in the direction of the thief for the briefest of instants and Gaius nearly toppled off his seat in a fruitless attempt to appear nonchalant. With his back to her table, Gaius returned to the meal before him, only partially paying attention to the conversation between Donnel, Kellam and Stahl. By the time he convinced himself to turn around again, Maribelle had already left the dining area.

The rusted springs of the cot moaned loudly as he flung his body into a new position. Thunder rumbled dully outside and he wished in vain that a lowborn outlaw such as he would be easily forgettable. Her father's trial was almost two years ago at this point. However, during its conclusion in court, Maribelle shot Gaius a look so piercing and venomous that he was certain he had made her list of permanent vendettas – not to mention the fact that their second fateful meeting found him in company of rebels plotting to murder the exalt.

Perhaps the most maddening aspect of this whole scenario was the fact that Gaius found himself so helplessly discombobulated. He had always been proud of his roguish streak, but the whole business with the Duke of Themis had been a source of disquiet for him. It was the first time he felt truly responsible for the life of another, an innocent – he then began to fully comprehend the gravity of his actions and their consequences. This course of personal evaluation also became the impetus for joining the Shepherds upon discovering the plot against Emmeryn's life (although Lissa's stash of candy certainly did "sweeten the deal").

He would have to make an effort to explain everything to Maribelle, he thought. It would likely be worse than pulling teeth, but they were comrades in arms now; Gaius knew that ignoring the tension was hopeless and could even be problematic from a tactical standpoint. He groaned and pressed his palms against his eyelids until he saw stars exploding across the blackness. Working up the courage just to breach that haughty veneer of hers was going to be a tall order even for someone as charismatic as himself. It was either that or desert the Shepherds immediately… in the middle of the night… on his first day…

Furthermore, he worried that Maribelle would reveal his involvement in the attempted robbery of the royal treasury to Chrom before he could clarify the facts. _Would it really make a difference to her anyway?_ he wondered. He doubted Chrom would take any kind of disciplinary action, yet Gaius could not seem to reconcile a nagging feeling in his mind that his own reputation suddenly mattered a great deal. Exasperated, he nestled further under the wooly blanket, willing himself to get a good night's rest.

* * *

**A/N**: This is my first attempt at fan fiction! I'd like to see this story progress into romance (and maybe, just maybe, a lemon/lime). Thanks for reading ^_^

* cover image source: scribbledabble (tumblr)


	2. Chapter 1

The next morning Emmeryn was already on her way to the Eastern Palace with an escort of pegasus knights lead by Captain Phila. The Shepherds would be departing the Ylisstol shortly and Maribelle's rotating duty for today was to assist with loading and securing the baggage train. Manual labor would surely take some getting used to, but she was never one to eschew her responsibilities. _I'm a soldier now_, she thought. As she made her way through the corridors of the palace, she repeated that phrase over and over in her head; it was becoming something of a mantra. _I'm a soldier now._

Truth be told, Maribelle was exhausted. Last night she tossed and turned until nearly sunrise. She was still reeling from her brief capture by Gangrel and Aversa just days earlier, but she felt that complaining about it would have been very pedestrian indeed. In fact, the noblewoman had never imagined herself joining the ranks of Ylisse's military in a million years – a little brush with death and the bravery of her most trusted friend, Lissa, had inspired her on the spot. Perhaps her decision had even been a bit hasty, but, despite her fear, she did not regret it. Although, Emmeryn's assassination attempt being her transition into battle was harrowing to say the least. Thankfully no one had been gravely injured; the fact that she was able to heal and comfort her allies was unusually rewarding.

But there was also the matter of certain ginger-headed scoundrel. Maribelle spotted Gaius in the chaos just outside Emmeryn's chamber in yesterday's clash with Validar's men. She had been so utterly dumbstruck at the sight of him that an enemy axe almost finished her, tearing the sleeve of her garment and slicing off a small chunk of her golden curls. She would have thanked Frederick for nudging her out of harm's way – that is, if he hadn't shot her such a penetrating scowl afterwards. _Everyone thinks I am far too tender for this_, she mused. Still, the appearance of that wretched thief was even more vexing.

"Hey!" called a familiar voice.

"Oh, Lissa, darling. Good morning." Maribelle replied, wrenching herself away from her thoughts.

Lissa cocked her head to the side. "You're looking a little spaced out. Everything alright?"

"Yes, dear, of course. Nothing to worry about," she said, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. "Has there been any word from Phila or Emmeryn? Have they arrived?"

Lissa's upbeat attitude wavered almost imperceptibly, "…No, nothing yet."

Maribelle grimaced. "I'm terribly sorry, Lissa. That was nearsighted of me to ask. They will be fine," she said softly, giving the princess' arm an encouraging squeeze. "It is likely they have not had an opportunity to send a pigeon."

"Yeah, I know. It's just…" Lissa sighed, trailing off. She blinked hard and shuffled her feet, "Emm's too good, you know? It's why everyone adores her, including me… but I worry that her soft heart might be her undoing." Lissa's eyes glittered.

"Sweetheart," Maribelle cooed and pulled her friend into an embrace. "Come, let's have a cup of tea before we clear out. It will soothe–"

Lissa jumped back wearing an expression of mild panic. "Oh no! I knew I was forgetting something! I wish we could, but I don't think we have time for tea. Frederick sent me to come get you, so you can both start loading the wagons. He seemed very, umm… eager."

"Ah, yes, you're right. We had better get moving at once. I could do without giving Frederick another reason to declare my martial incompetency." The troubadour smoothed the front of her raiment.

"What do you mean _another reason_?"

"Oh, well, as you can imagine, he came to my rescue in a flourish of knightly valor yesterday." Maribelle resumed walking down the corridor toward the rear exit, but the princess stopped.

Lissa's expression was inscrutable, "I forgot something in my room. I'll meet you out there." With that, she swiftly dashed away in the direction of her bedchamber.

Maribelle quirked her eyebrow as the young royal disappeared around a corner. Without wasting any more time, she briskly strode to join Frederick at the stables. Noticing a loose thread on her cuff, she attempted to pull it off as she walked, but this particularly stubborn string would not budge despite her fiercest effort. She glanced around her to make sure there were no witnesses and proceeded to use her teeth to gnaw the fiber off. At the same instant the thread snapped, an adjacent door swung open suddenly and sent Maribelle staggering a few paces backwards.

In the short moment before looking up, Maribelle was concerned that whoever just came barging through that door may have seen her gracelessly chewing on the hem of her sleeve like a savage. However, when she did turn her gaze, the person's entire upper body was obscured by a teetering stack of neatly folded canvas tents. Maribelle peeked around the hulking pile and was met by a shaggy mess of orange hair, the owner's face buried in the heap of tents in a seeming effort to keep them balanced. She felt her blood run cold instantly.

After a small amount of murmuring against the mass of fabric before him, Gaius finally extracted his face.

"Crivens! I'm sorry. I couldn't see a blessed thin–"

He choked on his words as he met the scathing glare of the woman before him. His ears started to feel hot and a wave of anxiety broke over him.

"Uhh… Hi there," he stammered, straining a crooked smile.

Maribelle released a pronounced tut that sounded something akin to the squawk of a bird of prey. Despite the bile churning in her stomach, she knew the noblest course of action was to carry on without quibbling. She turned on her heel, mustering all the poise she possessed, and marched away purposefully.

"Troglodyte," she muttered angrily.

Gaius stood there, rooted to the ground. Admittedly, he was somewhat relieved that he could put off this confrontation if only for a little while. _Hmm. Trol-og-dyte? I wonder if that tactician has a dictionary in her collection of tomes. _Although Gaius didn't know what the word meant, he could be sure it was not a compliment. He collected himself and returned to his preparations for the trip ahead. _And what a long journey it's gonna be…_

Frederick was tending to a loose spoke on the front wheel of the baggage train as Maribelle approached.

"Ah, milady," he greeted her, rising to his feet. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Without a doubt. I'm insatiably curious about how the rank and file folk stack their luggage," she remarked.

Upon perceiving Frederick's indignation, she added, "Only a jest, my good knight. Please, instruct me in the most efficient method of loading and organizing. I am your pupil."

Frederick chuckled wryly. "Well, if you are not mocking me, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Unfortunately, I must join Chrom and Robin for an impromptu council. I've arranged for a competent partner to assist you. Ah, here he comes now."

Maribelle did not need to follow Frederick's gesture. The sinking feeling in her gut told her exactly who her partner was. Gaius plodded past her – face squashed against the weight of the pile again – and chucked the tents down in back of the cart.

"Well, Twinkles," he said with an air both coy and apologetic, "I guess it's just you and me."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N**: This installment came out much _much_ longer than I anticipated. 2000+ words! WTF? I was hoping to be fairly consistent with word count in each chapter, but OH WELL. Enjoy! I'm starting to get some fun ideas for where this is going and I'm excited. I'd like to try to update more frequently, but adult life is a prison, etc, etc

XD

Anyway, I'll worry about formatting the chapters, er, later. Thanks for reading!

Also, the dialogue following the "pastry scene" is a slightly tweaked version of the couple's C-Support conversation.

* * *

It was no surprise to Gaius that Maribelle simply pretended he was not present during the time it took to arrange and bolster the supply wagon. He had attempted a bit of small talk before finally giving up; each utterance he made was immediately cut short by an incisive scoff or the exaggerated hurling of cargo items. Eventually, he tired of the futility and thereafter did his best to shift his focus to observing the other Shepherds. He watched Vaike coerce Lon'qu into a duel and saw Miriel reading the passage of a book to Ricken as he listened curiously.

Gaius couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at everyone else's budding bonds. Although being a successful thief did involve an expert level of stealth and deception, it was usually followed by bawdy revelry with his fellow swindlers after the job was done. However, here with the Shepherds, he wasn't sure that fitting in was going to be so easy - or merry, for that matter. As he anchored the last length of cord around the freight, he wiped sweat from his brow and blew a tuft of orange fringe out of his eyes. He chanced a look over to Maribelle as she carefully pulled a tarp over the cart to protect the contents from rain; she trained her eyes to look anywhere but him, her chest puffed out and her chin pointed unnaturally upward.

Abruptly, a sweet and intoxicating smell transported Gaius miles away from his concerns. He couldn't be sure how long it was before he snapped his eyes open to see Sumia approaching the baggage train with a piping hot basket of pastries. All tension was momentarily erased; a goofy smile lingered on his lips and he gaped lovingly at the cloying white steam curling its way through the morning air. Sumia suppressed a giggle at the bandit's expression and presented the basket to Maribelle first, winking.

"These took longer to bake than I expected. You may have to eat quickly," Sumia said, breathlessly. "I think Chrom hopes to depart shortly."

Maribelle plucked a flaky tart from the pile and nodded in appreciation. Sumia smiled kindly at her and gestured the basket toward Gaius.

"Sugar…" he muttered and it sounded almost too ravenous. He seemed to catch himself, blushing slightly. "Thank you, Sumia. This is just what I needed. What's inside?"

"Peach and bilberry," she sang. "Well, I hope you like it." With that, she flitted off to disperse the treats to the rest of the group.

Gaius closed his eyes and bit into the pastry gently, chewing slowly in an attempt to prolong the bliss. Sumia, as it turned out, was an exquisite baker and he would have to thank her doubly later. The warmth and freshness of the confection was instantly comforting and he exhaled contentedly. Some of the fruity filling had oozed out into his hands; he finally opened his eyes and proceeded to lick his fingers thoroughly, leaving no traces of sweetness behind.

Without thinking, he turned to the woman beside him and sighed, "This is right tasty, isn't it?"

Maribelle harrumphed and her eyes were positively stormy.

"Okay, _okay_. Please don't ruin this moment for me then," Gaius responded and popped what remained of the tart into his mouth, allowing joy to envelop him once again.

"Good heavens, but you are brash," she quipped. "I shall ruin whatever I wish. _Especially_, when it comes to you. You… filthy dastard! How you were recruited into the Shepherds mystifies me, but I don't question it since I happen to know my place here – unlike you."

"Oh, yeah? What's your place, Twinkles?" he retorted before he could stop himself.

"Now see here, Gaius. What do you think you're playing at, hovering around me like a persistent fly?" she spat angrily. "It disturbs me to see your leering visage, particularly during the last two battles."

He balked under her intense glower. "I-I'm sorry. Truly. I just thought… Well, if I can atone for what I did, then maybe–"

"Maybe what? I might _forgive_ you? We might become oh-such-good-friends?" Maribelle arched her eyebrow menacingly. "You broke into the royal treasury with the intent of stealing from the realm. And then you did it _again_!"

He was ashamed and yet simultaneously displeased with himself for feeling that way. "Look, I know I did wrong, and I feel lousy about it. Gods strike me down if I don't."

Maribelle guffawed sarcastically, "Ha! You must be a stone idiot if you think I'll believe a thing you have to say! Or have you forgotten the first time you were caught raiding the treasury? You claimed _my father_ was behind it – my poor, decent, innocent father! He was hauled in front of the magistrate and almost put to death because of you."

"Actually the thing about that is…" he paused, fidgeting, "L-Look, I said some things I'm not proud of in an attempt to avoid the noose. But I'm a changed man now, and if you'll just let me, I'm sure I can–"

She stomped her foot, throwing up a cloud of dust and dirt. "Oh, enough. If I want a dog and pony show, I shall attend a carnival."

"No tricks, Twinkles. I speak from the heart on this one," he pleaded.

"The blackened heart of a brigand is hardly worth listening to!"

Gaius could see that her face was gradually turning a dangerous shade of red. But before he could express any more remorse, his attention was drawn to a commotion stirring up among the platoon. Chrom, Robin and Frederick came sprinting toward the caravan; everyone had noticed their panic-fueled dash and began closing the distance between them. Without exchanging another word, both Maribelle and Gaius followed suit.

"We have to move out _now_!" Chrom bellowed. "Shepherds! Make your way down the eastern road and keep your eyes glued to the sky. If you see Phila and the pegasus knights, head directly to them. If you don't, keep going toward the Eastern Palace."

By the looks on their faces, everyone seemed to have a thousand questions. However, not one hesitated and the column began careening down the path in the direction Chrom had instructed. Gaius glanced at Maribelle briefly before moving to the horses that were meant to pull the cargo wagon. He was checking to see that the bridles were fastened properly; Maribelle did the same, tending to the second horse. Frederick trotted over to the pair with a worried crease lining his brow.

"There's no need for that. We're not taking the baggage train with us – at least, not right now. We're going to need a few of you to stay here at the castle in case of attack. I've posted Virion, Kellam, Sully and Panne around the perimeter. You two will stay here by the gate. Try to get a higher vantage every now and again."

As Frederick turned to leave, Maribelle could not contain her anxiety, "What's happened?"

"Ylisse's hierarch has betrayed Emmeryn's location to the rebels. We must either intercept the enemy or find the exalt before they do. I must ride. Stay vigilant," he commanded and spurred his horse to a gallop.

Without question, Gaius and Maribelle knew that their quarrel was at a ceasefire for the time being. They decided on Maribelle taking the crow's nest and Gaius staying closer the portcullis on the ground.

"We should probably switch up our positions in about an hour," the man suggested, looking at his feet.

"Very well," Maribelle replied. She turned on her heel and did not look back.

An hour had come and gone without incident. Gaius signaled to Maribelle with a flash of sunlight reflected in a small mirror – which he had always kept on him to check around corners – and the troubadour descended the ladder of her perch. The two of them met in the middle of the bailey, both avoiding each other's direct gaze.

Finally, Maribelle spoke up, "I should like a bit of water. I shall return promptly."

She did not wait for a response from the thief and made her way over to the well in the courtyard. Gaius continued his watch where he stood, scanning the walls for anything abnormal. And then, out of nowhere, an arrow whizzed into the bailey and lodged itself in the grass just a yard or two away from Maribelle's location. The whooshing sound attracted her attention too and she stood frozen in shock, the well bucket still clenched in her hands and her eyes wide with fear.

Gaius looked from her to the arrow to the walls again. A second arrow was loosed, this one passing only inches from the woman's arm. Maribelle dropped the bucket and fell to her knees; she covered her head instinctively and cowered. Her position was still vulnerable and, before he knew it, Gaius was rushing towards her. He swiftly grabbed her by the fabric of her shirt and hoisted her down so that she was flat to the ground and partially obscured by a stable trough. The noblewoman covered her eyes and wailed. A third arrow fluttered in, grazing Gaius' neck; he could feel a stream of hot blood trickle into the neckline of his shirt.

Not wasting another minute, he nocked his own arrow and glanced around frantically – he had only started recently training his bow skills, but this would be the only way to take down a ranged opponent. In what he could only define as a stroke of dumb luck, he suddenly spotted the enemy archer nestled in a tall tree just outside the wall. He let his arrow fly and prayed. He almost didn't believe it when he saw the shadow of the attacker's body lurch unsteadily and then fall. Gaius wanted to lay back in relief, but he knew he couldn't – not just yet.

Again, he picked up Maribelle by her garment and forcibly led her into the stable for cover; all the while she sobbed and said nothing. As soon as he let go, her body crumpled and she plunged unceremoniously into the nearest pile of hay. Crouching down, he touched her shoulder lightly.

"Just stay here, okay?" he whispered. "I have to warn the others on watch. That craven was probably just a lone scout, but there is no way to be certain. So, I'll be back. Don't move."

Maribelle made no motion to indicate whether she heard Gaius or not; she only continued to shake and cover her face. He awkwardly patted her on the arm and rose to stand. When he was out in the open again, he brought his fingers to his mouth and let out the crispest, loudest whistle he could muster. As if on cue, Virion appeared running across the top of the castle wall only moments later.

"Are you alright?" he shouted.

"Yeah, we're fine," Gaius replied.

"I saw that body fall and came as fast as I could. I've told Panne to relay this information to the others on patrol. She and I saw no other enemy forces ourselves."

"Perfect," Gaius sighed and relaxed. "I assume that one was just a scout."

"Yes, yes. You are likely correct. I shall round the rest of us up then and return here. It would be best to keep our watch together until the rest of the unit returns."

"Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Virion."

Gaius made his way back to the stables to find Maribelle panicking, staring at a dark red stain on her clothes and searching her body.

"I'm bleeding," she cried helplessly, "But I can't find the wound." Her tears flowed even more heavily now.

"Hey, shhhh," he cooed gently and stooped down near her. "That's not your blood."

She finally glanced up at him and saw the ample coating of blood that was beginning to congeal and dry on the man's neck. Her eyes grew bigger and she opened her mouth to say something, but Gaius lifted his hand in protest.

"Don't worry, Twinkles. The arrow only clipped me. I'll live – much to your dismay, I'm sure," he joked and smiled at her. "C'mon. On your feet. We gotta keep it together here until Chrom and Lissa get back, alright?"

It was a rare occurrence that Maribelle was lost for words, but she steeled herself and stood up.

With unexpected vigor and determination she replied plainly, "Alright."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Sorry for good ol' fanfic disappearing act. I'm back! For now, at least…

Thanks so much for reading, reviewing and supporting 3

* * *

Of the band of Shepherds that remained at the castle, Sully was the senior officer. She paced – or more accurately, prowled – the grounds, her face fraught with a mixture of impatience and concern. Everyone was now assembled in the main courtyard, yet no one spoke nor even looked at each other. It had been at least six hours since Chrom, Robin, Frederick and the others left to pursue Emmeryn's retinue. Fortunately, they had not encountered any other enemy attackers, but there had also been no word from the rest of the unit.

Virion absentmindedly fletched some new arrows while Panne patrolled slowly in her rabbit form, sniffing the air. Kellam took up the task of stoking the yard's large fire pit – although it was only midafternoon, great black storm clouds were amassing from the south, leeching sunlight from their surroundings.

Maribelle, the sole occupant of one of the low wooden bench beside the fire, stared bleakly at the stiff rusty bloodstain that marred the delicate blush-colored silk of her garment. Her worry for Lissa was steadily growing and she was not confident she could bear it much longer. She fought back tears bitterly, knowing that displaying any more weakness was out of the question. I_ was such a craven_, she thought. _Everyone believes I'm nothing but a spoiled, cocksure aristocrat playing at war_. In any case, she knew that she had no right to be afraid while she sat comfortably inside the castle walls when the others were out protecting the exalt against what was likely more than a lone archer in a tree.

Suddenly compelled to do more than just sit down, the troubadour rose to her feet and strode purposefully toward the castle entrance. From his vantage in the crow's nest, Gaius noticed the blur of pink vestments and honeyed ringlets bobbing flamboyantly across the bailey. He found it amusing how even the staccato of her walk was imperious. As far as the thief was concerned, nobles had always been a paradox comprised of equal parts laughable inexperience and blind presumption. He wouldn't say that he disliked the woman and, despite rushing to her aid that morning, he felt he owed her something. It did, however, trouble him that he desired her acceptance so ardently. It was as if he began to see the world through a new lens since laying eyes on her for the first time after the incident with her father. Why did he feel she held the key to his absolution? And why did he want it so bad now after continued years of outlawry?

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and scanned the horizon for the thousandth time, preferring to turn his train of thought in any direction but the present one. A wiggle of his fingers produced the telltale rustle of some sweets and, sighing contentedly, he held them out in his palm. _Right_, he mused, _these blasted things_. Gaius had forgotten about the rosewater lokum candies stowed there, the remnants of Lissa's stockpile. He didn't particularly care for them, but he also could not bring himself to throw away confections of any kind. Tiny, intricate roses decorated the wax-paper; the treats looked far too opulent and dainty to be suited to him anyway (not unlike a certain young lady he was trying not to dwell on).

As if in sync with the churnings of his mind, Maribelle reentered the courtyard with considerable less grace than when she exited. Hoisting a large cast-iron kettle and a basket of supplies, she lumbered toward the fire pit in wide side-steps with great effort. A quick glance around showed him that everyone else on the ground was so absorbed in their own tasks that none detected her apparent struggle. Without hesitation, he made quick work of the ladder below him. His supple leather gloves safeguarded him from splinters and he glided down the length of it while loosely gripping the planks perpendicular to the rungs. Gaius jogged over to the blonde noblewoman, reaching for the handle of the unwieldy kettle.

"No!" she tutted defiantly. Shortness of breath punctuated her next words, "If there is one thing I can do well and without instruction it is make tea. I can no longer sit idly by when the only thing of note that I have done for this cause is to snivel and be bled upon." She paused and her voice took on an almost bashful inflection, "It's not much at all, but perhaps everyone would like refreshments."

Gaius didn't know how what to say to that at first. Yes, the idea of brewing tea in order to boost morale in the increasingly ominous situation they found themselves in was, to say the least, absurd. But, then again, the kindness behind the action and her desperation to be useful was strangely charming. Deciding it best not to intervene, Gaius simply walked backwards in front of her as she progressed to the fire, "It's plenty, Twinkles. I'm sure all will be grateful for it."

Maribelle scoffed, "You need not coddle me."

Just then a gust of wind blew a few locks of hair into her mouth and she sputtered awkwardly, attempting to use to her tongue to shift the strands away. Gaius snickered and she realized the inelegance of her actions too late, slowly meeting his smug gaze. Retracting her tongue, she thrust her chin up high in that characteristic gesture of hers.

"C'mere," the thief murmured, giggles persisting. Before he could think better of it, he hooked his index finger under the offending strands and pulled them away from her lips, tucking the hair behind her ear. Maribelle's eyes widened to saucers and hues of crimson crept up her neck.

He was only able to survey her cartoonish expression of shock and insult for a split-second before the cast-iron tea kettle came crashing down on his instep.

* * *

"I wouldn't go so far as to apologize. However, it was not intentional," she said in clipped tones as she riffled through her healer's satchel of potions and salves. She had tended to the tea first, in spite of Gaius's howls of pain, and a heady floral scent began to settle around them.

He laughed, "Not so certain about that, but it's okay. I deserve worse."

"I don't know where you get off touching a lady's face without invitation! I'm well aware you're a baseborn cur, but it seems an obvious bit of common sense." She plopped herself down beside him on the bench she had occupied earlier. Her mending staff lay on the ground before her and she grasped a small clay bottle in her fist. Without preamble and with more roughness than he would have imagined capable from her, Maribelle seized the leg of his trousers at the calf and hoisted it up so that his ankle rested on her knee.

Gaius winced at the sharp movement, but could not resist retorting, "So, I can put my foot on your lap, but not my hand on your face?"

"You're treading dangerously thin ice, you worm," she fumed while being incongruously gentle in removing his boot and setting it aside.

"Well, Twinkles, you make it kinda easy," he chaffed, winking and flashing a dazzling grin.

The reversal in Maribelle's mood was instantaneous and she shoved his foot off her knee. "Fine!" she bellowed abruptly, ire evident in her blazing brown eyes. "Take care of it yourself then!" She lobbed the vulnerary she held at him and it thumped against his chest armor harmlessly.

"Wait! C'mon. At least one of these toes is broken... I'm sorry, okay?" he pleaded, but she was already marching off to the far side of the yard. She just stood by herself, taut as a bowstring, arms crossed and staring fixedly at the main gate. "Bollocks," he muttered to himself.

Gaius regretted the gibe. The woman was clearly shaken from the previous events of the day and jittery about the impending return of their companions; he knew that she was trying hard to suppress her feelings and be courageous. His foot throbbed rhythmically, but, if he was being completely honest, the injury wasn't as severe as he put on. The erstwhile bandit raked his fingers down his face in defeat and his hands found their way into his pockets again. "Oh," he mouthed as the notion dawned on him.

He gathered a generous handful of the rosewater lokum, bouncing them playfully in his palm. Chancing another look at Maribelle – still as hard and unmoving as a marble statue – he surreptitiously slipped the morsels into her satchel along with the wayward vulnerary she had chucked at him. _It's not much at all_, he thought, echoing the troubadour's earlier doubts.

The faintest of smiles began to form on his lips, but the reverie was short-lived. A brusque shout ripped through the grounds, "BIRD!" It was Sully, her pointed finger following the path of a descending white-grey pigeon. The red knight stooped down to the bird with understandable apprehension and Gaius knew the message bore ill news when her shoulders slumped and she crushed the paper in her hand. Sully's body quaked and the steel of her armor rattled threateningly.

Cold sweat prickled the man's flesh and he, along with the others, made his way toward Sully's shuddering form. She was now spewing profanities and slamming her fists against the dirt repeatedly; Kellam and Virion crouched down in an attempt to assuage her. The accursed note slid from the knight's grasp and skittered across the soil only to be halted by the well-timed pinning of Maribelle's boot. Dread consumed her as she bent low to retrieve it.

"Emmeryn…" she breathed.


End file.
